


the energy of life

by depugnare



Series: Never Gonna Be a Whole Fic [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7534879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depugnare/pseuds/depugnare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve feels as though he might have died too. But Captain America lived on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the energy of life

Steve Rogers hanging out with all the youngsters when the Commandos are in camp because while everyone expects him to behave like some seasoned old colonel, he’s only 25!!! a kiddo!!! Everyone expects him to be responsible and serious and S-T-E-R-N but guess what? He’s out blushing and stumbling around Peggy Carter and giggling with his best friend over a drink and rolling around wrestling in the dirt with his friends. He’s leading men screaming into battle, fear racing through his veins, stupid courage fueling his heart. Gun aimed to kill, fists red with the blood of others, still looking over his shoulder to see Bucky at his left, teeth bared in a feral smile. Wild boys, still so young and proud, heads held high as they descend on the enemy like a pair of wolves.

And then he’s 27 and watching his best friend, the boy that put himself in front of a bully, the boy that picked Steve up, the man that smiled at him and proudly proclaimed his unit like this war hadn’t been tearing them apart since Pearl Harbor, fall to his death. He’s 27 and crying in a bombed out pub with the warbling, manic notes of a song playing from the radio next door, Peggy’s words rattling around his head like a scratched record.

So when he puts his hands on the controls of the Valkyrie and aims it towards the ice, he repeats her words back at her. My choice. Bucky did not choose to die, because he was reaching for Steve. His hand was trembling with fear, eyes begging Steve to grab him, to be the one to pull him up, be the hero for once, and Steve failed. His hand clenched around empty air and Bucky fell screaming and Steve hasn’t been able to sleep without seeing those hands still reaching towards him even as Bucky falls. How terrible it must have been, to die having seen your best friend’s hand grasping at nothing when your fingers are still curled to fit between their’s. 

Steve is 27 when the plane hits the ice and water rushes up to meet him, filling his mouth and nose. He can’t breath. Can’t hear. It’s so very quiet and he closes his eyes. The dreams do not come, but he can hear Bucky calling for him. Hear his mother humming a song as she darns socks late at night. Rebecca Barnes’ loafers thundering up the steps to greet her boys. Peggy’s voice soft and powerful as she saves the world.

Steve is 27 when he opens his eyes to a sunny room and a game he remembers, licking popcorn salt off his fingers while Bucky screams at the players. But Bucky isn’t sitting next to him and there’s a woman with strange hair smiling at him and he knows it’s wrong when he sees her fake smile. 

Captain America perfected that smile, dimples just right, mouth curled just enough to look inviting and confident without appearing arrogant. Steve frowns, eyes darting towards the door. He runs.

It seems as though he hasn’t died. Steve is 27. Steve is 97. Bucky is dead. Peggy fading. Everything he’s known gone or remade. 

Steve feels as though he might have died too. But Captain America lived on, and so here he sits: ninety-seven, smooth-skinned and alone. Steve Rogers died at sea, encased in red, white and blue. All those years and it might as well have seeped into his skin, turned him into something beyond human. Immortal and divine.

(Captain America Returns! scream the headlines. They say nothing about Steve Rogers, missing presumed dead in 1945 in service of his country. Of course they don’t, what good is it to speak of ghosts when a god stands before you?)


End file.
